Finding Home
by thecatisdead-getoverit
Summary: Edward wasn't expecting to meet the mysterious mate-in-the-making Bella when he returned to Chicago. But there's a big secret that Jasper's been keeping that threatens to ruin everything and everyone. Heads will roll. All Vamp
1. Prelude

Right, new story and it's slightly different.

I actually can't think of anything else to say now which is very unusual.

Well enjoy, and reviews are always good especially for the first chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that you recognise.

The Prelude

Texas

March, 1846

'With this Ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen'

It was raining outside as he said those words to Isabella and slid the ring onto her finger. He smiled down at her cautiously as she gazed down at her now, permanently adored, finger.

The reception occurred without incidence. They ate and drank. There was dancing and talking. People came up to them, giving them best wishes for the future. There were jokes about the wedding night, tips about being a good wife for Isabella and the same for Jasper. There were moments where they would catch each other's eye and shy smiles would be exchanged.

It was past one in the morning by the time Jasper and Isabella were released from her parent's house. Her brother had taken Jasper aside before they left, leaving Isabella with a sleeping father and a mother who just stared at her. She shuffled uncomfortably, glancing around her...no, her parents living room. Her mother's mouth moved slightly giving the hint that she was going to speak but before she did, Jasper returned to the living room, laughing.

'Ready?' he asked, walking away from her brother

'Yes,' She told him, picking up her white wedding shawl and hugging goodbye her mother and brother.

Stepping onto the front grass and turning towards their new home, Jasper picked up her arm, and secured it next to him, linking it with his.

'Thank you.' He told her quietly as they turned a corner.

'You're meant to say that when I agreed to marry you.' She joked, smiling up at him.

Looking down at her, Jasper smiled in return. She hadn't really looked like his Bella today. Her dress had been slightly too fashionable for her. The neck had been lower than he was use to and he didn't know if he liked it. Her hair had been brushed and pinned within an inch of its life. She looked older. She looked like a Bride.

They walked in silence turning corners and dodging trees until they reached their new home. It was the same as most of the houses in the area. White with a blue trim, a porch with an old swing in it, just an average marital home. Inside Isabella had already made sure it was kitted out. Old sofas and chairs had been re-upholstered, pictures had been hung, bedrooms decorated, their belongings already moved in.

Isabella removed her arm from his, and began to walk slightly quicker. Jasper slowed down, looking at his new home, at his new wife, at his new life. He shook his head, trying to remove that feeling. He had chosen this, he had chosen Bella. She had agreed. It was an arrangement. But somehow staring at it all, made it actually really. That everything had really changed. They weren't just best friends anymore; they were Major and Mrs Jasper Whitlock. They were meant to be something.

Bella walking up the steps to the porch, snapped him out of his thoughts. And he quickened his pace to catch up.

'Well, that's that then.' Isabella declared as she walked inside their new home, surveying the hall in the dim light.

'Umm, hello?' He coughed behind her. She turned around to see him leaning against the doorway still outside on the porch, looking just as boyishly handsome as he always had.

'Yes, my dear?' she said sarcastically, placing a hand on her hip.

He didn't reply in words, but instead beckoned her forward, putting out his arm to pull her out of the door. She cocked her head at him, silently questioning. He just shook his head and in a second she was whipped off her feet. Securing her in his arms, he walked over the threshold. He kept her in his arms until they entered the front sitting room. Then he threw her unceremoniously onto the sofa, laughing.

Collapsing on the seat on the other side of the fireplace, he told her, 'Now we're a married couple.'

'Oh, because it's _that,_ that makes us married.' She replied, sitting up.

He looked at her and smiled very slightly at her.

'Tea?' She asked, after a moment or two of pure silence.

'Please.'

She wandered off, filling the kettle with water and placing it on the hob. She surveyed her new kitchen. It was smaller than the one at her parents, but it fitted. It was only the two of them and soon it would only be her. A lump caught in her throat as she thought of it and sniffed away the tears that where threatening to fall. Leaving the kettle to boil she walked upstairs and into their new room. The bed lay in the middle of the room, taunting her. She whipped her head away from it and hurriedly got herself out of her hideous wedding dress. She hadn't liked it, it was too... everything. She quickly buttoned up an old blue dress, and unpinned her hair. She looked at the dress folded over a chair. Tomorrow she would wash it and then find a suitable box for it. Then put it away.

She almost ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, thankful that the water had yet to boil. She stared out the window, onto their back garden. She was planning what to do with while fixing her hair into a plait when the water boiled. She pulled herself up, tucked the stray hairs behind her ears and busied herself with tea making.

Jasper sat on his chair, staring into the unlit fireplace. How was he meant to do this? This thing, that was going to have to happen, how was he meant to? This was Isabella he was thinking about. His best friend. He hadn't even thought of her as a girl - woman- till a few years ago. And now he was meant to..?

When Isabella re-entered the room carrying a tray, Jasper had a pipe in his mouth, leaning against the fireplace, deep in thought

'Well that's a sight I never thought I'd never seen.' Isabella declared, putting the tray of tea down on the occasional table next to his chair. He turned to look at her; silently pleased that she had changed to look more like Bella, but that somehow made this worse.

'Well I'm an old married man now; I thought I'd better start with a pipe.' He informed her, as she poured two cups of tea.

Picking up her cup she sat down on the sofa looking at him, 'You think too much.'

'I find that very hard to believe.' He informed her, placing his pipe down in its stand and bringing the cup to his lips.

'You're over thinking every Jazz, don't. We'll work it out. We always do. Now drink your tea. Then we'll go to bed.' She said it with such confidence, that Jasper had to look right at her, to be sure that she meant it. To anyone else it would have look like she did. But looking at her, Jasper saw that frightened, lost look behind her eyes, and knew he was the cause.

He wasn't sure how he was meant to do this. But still there are some things you just have to do. As they finished their tea and Bella left with the tray, his mind floated to his conversation with her brother.

He had taken him outside into the Swan's back garden, the garden he had spent his childhood playing in. Paul had sat down and told Jasper to do the same. Paul was younger than them, at 16 he was barely a man, but still he sat there, looking at Jasper. And the feeling that Paul wasn't just one of his childhood friends, hit him, he was a brother, he may have been younger, but he was still a brother.

'Jasper, look, I...' Paul trailed off and stood up, 'Jazz I don't care to know why you and Bells are married or what arrangement you made. Though I can guess. But promise me that you'll be good to her.'

'Paul..' He had gone to interrupt, but Paul's hand had gone up stopping him.

'Let me just say this, Jazz and then we'll forget it ever happened. If Pa wasn't asleep in the front room, he'd be threatening you.'

He had silently agreed with this, Charles Swan had already threatened to kill him 3 times. He was thankful he had collapsed before the 4th.

'But I can't do that, your Jazz. I know that you and Bells are best friends, but that's worlds apart from being husband and wife. Just promise me that you'll look after her, that you'll be kind and loving. Because rest assured Jasper, if you don't I won't care that you are my friend or that you're a major in the confederate army...' He didn't finish the sentence, he didn't have to. Jasper understood. He had nodded at Paul and patted his shoulder.

Going over the conversation in his head, Jasper had found himself making his way to their bedroom. He noticed the wedding dress over the chair. He sat down on the bed, breathing deeply. He could do this.

When he finally heard Bella's feet on the steps, he was lying under the covers, his military suit he had worn for the wedding discarded for a nightshirt.

When Bella opened the door to the room, her eyes went wide at the sight of him in bed. Smiling shyly at him, she disappeared behind the screen sat in the corner. There was a 'oaf' from her, as she got tangled in her nightdress, He stopped himself laughing at her Bella-like traits, glad that they hadn't been lost when the priest had declared them husband and wife. She eventually came out from behind the screen, dressed in a simple green nightdress.

'Guessing that's not the one that your ma got for you?' He asked her sarcastically.

'No, I can go put that one on, if you'd like?' She joked at him, staring at the bed.

'You have to actually get in.' He told her, If he could make this jokey then perhaps it seem less strange, except it wasn't working. They both knew what he was doing, and what they...

She did get in, and laid there stiffly, staring at the ceiling. Without warning she rolled over and blew out the only candle that was giving them light. Being in the dark made them both hyper aware for the other one.

Before Jasper could say or do anything to get the ball rolling, Bella spoke to him in a timed voice, unlike anything he had heard her use before. 'Could we not, tonight Jazz, I just...' She trailed off as Jasper pulled her into him. He kissed the top of her head.

'No not tonight.' He smiled. They were going to be okay, he could feel it. They'd work all of this marriage stuff out together. They were Jasper and Isabella, Jazz and Bella. Nothing had really changed.

Of course everything did.

A month later Jasper walked out of the house wearing his uniform and promised her that he'd be back.

Unlike all of his other promises he didn't keep that one.

**A/N **

**Well that was hard, I normally write in 1****st**** person, but that needed to be in 3****rd****. Thankfully from now on I'll switch back to 1****st ****, so it'll be better, because that's easier.**

**Reviews are always good.**

**See you next time for...2011**

**Ta**

**X**

**P.S. If you are interested, their house is like the Radley house in 'To kill a Mockingbird.' It doesn't matter at all, but if you are someone who likes a picture. That's how I saw it, just not so scruffy, and in colour.**


	2. Flying West

**Right here we go, next chapter and back to good old 1****st**** person.**

**A thank you to Simaril for giving me my first review, I've decided that you are very nice****. And also a thank you to people who have story alerted. Also a thank you to people who have favourited!**

**Normally there wont be as big gaps between chapters - but I've had a week off and couldn't be bothered to do anything**

**Disclaimer**: If you recognise it, it isn't mine.

Chapter 1

Flying West

**Somewhere over US air space**

September, 2011

I hate the cold. A fact that is very hard to stomach when I can't feel it. I could be in the North Pole dancing with the polar bears and wearing a bikini and I wouldn't be cold. Thinking about it I couldn't dance with a polar bear, it would run away. So perhaps I should say that I use to hate to cold, but not now.

I often wonder what would have happened to me if all this hadn't. Would I have had children, been a socialite and have nice cups of tea? Would I have had spent my days sitting on the porch, drinking lemonade, talking about the good old days. But then if none of this had ever happened, I would be rotting in a coffin somewhere with only a tombstone to tell anyone that I ever existed.

But the thing is, it all did happen. I'm not dead and buried and I can't remember what lemonade tastes like. So instead I'm sitting on a plane that is 6 minutes from landing in Chicago's O'Hare International Airport. That means in 6 minutes I'll officially be in the United States of America - again. Oddly it feels like coming home, though it's not. It's my first time on US soil for 81 years. I left in 1930 and that's been that, haven't been back. But in 6 minutes I will be and I can't walk down the street and say hello to people. But Chicago isn't home. Chicago is just a city in Illinois with 2,853,114 people. But I couldn't go home-well home in a very lose way-now. I've never been to Chicago. Before I left I kept to small towns with 10 people, hidden away from society like a medieval hermit. Sure before I left I did a stint in New York, but doesn't everyone?

I like being in first class. Firstly it is very nice, especially on a transatlantic flight. It also means that I don't have to be in a confined space full of people with beating hearts. Don't get me wrong after 165 of not tasting human blood, I'm pretty good but I'm not going to tempt fate. But being in first class also means I get to leave the plane first.

They check my passport the woman at the desk hardly giving it a glance. Then all so suddenly I'm standing in departures. There are people hugging and kissing around me and it's dense and the smells just merge into one big pile of airport smell. I stand there, my handbag on my shoulder, glancing around.

'Umm, Miss?' I turn to find a short, bald man standing behind me. I study him quickly. Luckily my sunglasses shield most of my face so he can't really see me.

'Yes.' I reply sharply. Straight away I feel guilty as I see him flinch slightly.

'Umm are you Miss Whitlock?' He asks, automatically I go to correct him but I catch myself before I do. I haven't used that name in so long, the Miss sounds wrong – one of the reasons I don't use it. But coming back, it felt right to use it again. I finger the chain around my neck.

'Bob then I presume.'

Mr Bob nods in reply and asks me if I have any bags. Informing him that I had them all sent on, he asks me to follow him. He weaves me though the sea of people and outside of the terminal. And that's it, proper United States of America air again. He asks if I had a pleasant flight but I'm not in the mood for talking. He has left the car close to the exit only a minute walk from the building, I'm guessing the firm pulled some strings to get that spot.

'Here we go Miss.' He stops by a black car. Opening it with the keys. I look it over carefully. It's smooth and sleek like I asked

I nod at him in thanks. He opens the left hand door for me and as I slide in I pass him a tip. As soon as he shuts the door, I see him walk off back towards the terminal, I wonder how he is getting home, but then he has done this plenty of times before, I'm sure he has a way.

Running my hands over the dashboard, I take my sunglasses off placing them on the passenger seat along with my handbag. Turning the music system on, I smile, glad that it has been preloaded as I instructed. Turning the engine on, I clutch down and slip the car out of the spot. As I slip the car into 2nd Pictures of You fills the car.

The car moves effortlessly though the streets of Chicago as I make my way to my new home. It takes me 40 minutes to get to my new home in Bridgeport, Chicago. When I pull the car up I get some looks from my new neighbours. Locking the car securely I glance up at my new home. It's an old tenement building. Placing my sunglasses on the top of my head, I walk in. It looks like any old hall and landing. My new flat is on the third floor and as I go to approach it, taking out my key. The door to my right opens slightly and an old woman peaks though

'Who are you then?' She asks.

I have to physically bite my tongue to stop being sarcastic, she's just a little old lady who want to know who this strange woman is with a key to next door is. I smile, 'I'm just moving in, ma'am.' I tell her, walking towards her door, 'Isabella Whitlock, it's lovely to meet you.'

As soon as I finished introducing myself, she closes the door and a few seconds later flings it open.

'Well lass, you should of said.' She scalds me, smiling. She smells of Royal Jelly, pastry and grass. Her white hair is permed so it sits in short, tight curls on her hair. Her apron is something out of the 70's with pink, blue and purple flowers and is covered in flour. Her face is plumb and wrinkly, her lips almost slivers but not harshly. Her eyes are almost grey in colour. She reminds me of my Nana. 'I'm Bridget.' She tells me. Pulling me into a hug.

I reciprocate quickly, not use to humans being so friendly. I'm meant to scare them away, not give the vibe that I want to be hugged.

'You're freezing lass.' She declares, 'now you come in and have a nice cup of tea and I'm sure I have some cake left over.'

I shake my head, smiling 'Some other time Bridget. I have to unpack and I've just got off a really long flight.' I lie. Well not a lie really, she'll just interpretate it differently.

'Well, yes, you must be very tired. Now don't you worry your pretty little head about it.' She tells me, patting my arm. Why isn't this lady scared of me! Don't get me wrong I'm glad she's not, but it's just interesting. She walks out of the doorway to her flat and walks me back to my door.

'Now, girly you didn't say where you came from?' she asks, as we cross the landing

'England.' I tell her.

'Via Texas, aye?' She smiles at me, elbowing me good naturedly

'Yes ma'am.' Glad that you can still pick up where I'm from.

As I pull the key out of my pocket, she studies me more closely, 'You must be no more than 18, Lass.'

Actually I'm 183, which makes me about 110 years old than Bridget here, but I just tell her that I'm 18.

Opening the door, I slide in, looking at her standing in the hallway.

'Now Girly, this here is a big city, so if you want anything you just knock okay. And once you're settled we'll have a nice cuppa and I'll here all about England and Texas and all you young people things.' She smiles fully at me and I can't help but smile back.

She walks back to her little flat, and waves before she shuts the door. I follow suit straight away and look around my new home.

I've only ever seen it in photos and it looks exactly the same. It's white and all plain. My new furniture is just sat in the middle of the large open plan living space. The boxes of my belongings are piled in the middle of the room. Flinging my coat and bag on the floor and slipping out of my black boots I pad of to explore more of my new flat. The bathroom is small but perfectly formed and the bedroom next to it, is thankfully not that big. Walking back into the main room I get to properly study the room. Rifling though the boxes I find my docking station and a socket converter.

Plugging it in and selecting 'Sticking Fingers' I roll up my sleeves and get to work.

**A/N**

**'Pictures of You' if you don't know is by The Cure. 'Sticky Fingers' is an album by the Rolling Stones**

**Really a bit of an introduction chapter: but hopefully you enjoyed it**

**Yes I am Welsh so sorry British English. If I use a word that is really British/Welsh (I'll try not to, but I will undoubtedly at some points) and you haven't got a clue, just ask. That also means I don't have any knowledge of Chicago, just go with it.**

**Yes she drives a manual.**

**Reviews make me very happy XX**

**Till next time**

**XXxx**


	3. The Boxes of Pandora

**Right here we go, next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: If you recognise it, it isn't mine.**

Chapter 2

The Boxes of Pandora

The day comes and goes and the next one begins by the time I'm finished. Every piece of furniture in it's place. All belongings tidied away. Pictures have been hung, books and CDs organised alphabetically within genre. The only thing left is a small black suitcase sat in front of the fireplace. I've left it till last for a reason. Emptying it all out onto the floor, I sieve though it. A pile for Isabella Swan, a pile for Isabella Whitlock, a pile for Izzy Frazer and a final pile for Bella Austen. The final thing left is the same thing that is always left to last when I do this. An old frame wrapped in a purple cover. Unravelling it carefully I stare at it for a moment. Everytime I do this. I suppose eventually I'll have to stop. Put it in an album or something. But I can never bring myself to do that. It belongs in this frame, it belongs to be somewhere. Standing up I place it on the mantelpiece next to my parents old clock. Standing back I look at it. The same place it always has been kept in over 50 houses, the exact same spot.

Tearing my mind away from all those memories I turn around to look at the opposite wall, a series of photos and hand-drawn pictures lined up makes me giggle to myself.

Looking out the window I realise that it's stopped raining but it's still dull out. Changing my clothes I pick up my coat from the floor, select a hat from my giant collection and check that I have everything in my bag. I head out.

Getting outside I wander slowly, eventually I hit a Borders. We'll what else am I meant to do. Heading inside, I wander. By the time I reach the tills I've got a pile of 20 new books to read and I'm 570.98 dollars poorer. I've always loved books. I probably shouldn't be buying anymore but when you have over 1,500 what 20 more? The man at the desk gives me an odd look when I pile 20 books before him. He stops with the odd look once he properly looks at me. His heartbeat increases unfortunately for him he's quiet fugly really and doesn't smell that nice – sweat, linx and bacon. As he scan the books placing them in a bag, I muse about books. Buying a new book never quiet equates to having an old one. The paper always feels different and it doesn't have the same smell. If books smelt amazing when I was human they smell even better now. But then a hallocogenic fungus would smell good, it's just unfortunate that I can't get high, not that I haven't tried.

Leaving the shop, I begin to wander again. I've always liked to do that just wander around, exploring. Some people look at me as they pass but it's okay. This youngish couple pass me walking their dog, reminding me that I must hunt. Not on the dog, they taste yucky.

Time has a different meaning now. I didn't even realise it was a Sunday. But I end up walking past a church, when people are filling out – afternoon Mass.

Making my way in, in the opposite direction I make a bee line to the candles. Crossing myself after lighting one. I cross the alter to get to the notice board, remembering to genuflect as I pass.

'Missed the service?' An old priest approaches me as I read the notice board. His greying hair is reciding and his nose dominate most of his face, but he has a kind smile. When I look up at him, he steps back slightly and his smile faulters

'Yes, I've just moved here.' I tell him, giving him a dazzling smile. His heartbeat increase and I get a wift of incence off him as he replaces his smile. Hesitantly he picks up a piece of paper from the wall and passes it to me.

'Hopefully we'll see you next week?' He says, except it comes out more like a question. You have to give it to him, he obviously wants to run away, but he isn't, fair play to him.

I just nod in reply, because it's bad to lie to a priest especially when you're in church. I'm a non-religious catholic really I've been going to church 6 tmes a year on the same days for about 100 years. Thanking him, I move away. Hearing his sigh in relief as I do. It took me years to walk back into a church, and I've never met someone like me. Sure I go to church, I'll pray and all that jazz but I don't think I really believe it all. God, Jesus, Virgin births. But yet I still go. I still have a crucifix on my living room wall, I still own a pile of rosaries. If I was analysing it I would have to say that it's safety. Church and all is clear, I know my way round it and it's human. Maybe it's like eating animals, it's me trying to keep my humanity.

Eventually after walking for hours, I find myself wandering in an older, far more affluent part of town. I hadn't even notice the night closing in until the street lights eluminate my path.

Reaching the end of the street my ears prick up and my body tightens steadily. The air is filled with an altogether more undead smell than the rest of the city. I glance around quickly seeking out the new vampire, but see nothing. In front, a good ten yards ahead a shadow appears on the pavement on the opposite side of the road. The shadow makes a move to step forward but stops suddenly and whips its head around. To human eyes they are but a shadow however though the lights are dull I can pick out that it's a youngish man. He's wrapped up well playing the part expertly.

We stare each other out untill he shifts slightly and his eyes catch a stray light. He must have heard me gasp because in that time he dashes over the road and stands before me in the gutter. My nostrils are filled with the most delicious smell of mint and pine and something I can't put my finger on. Some great natural instinct tells me to run but another instinct and my brain tell me to stay. Caught up in my inner turmoil my feet don't move and I'm rooted to the ground.

'Vegetarian?' he asks quickly, his voice is silky and smooth and runs though my body like melted butter

'Huh?'

'You eat animals not humans.' He rephrases, this time saying it as a statement no longer a question.

'Yes.' Something tells me to answer and stay, not dash away.

'I'm Edward.' He introduces himself putting his hand out slowly. Glancing down at it, we shake as I tell him who I am. The minute my skin touches his, something darts though me and I feel the need to be closer. But my brain and self-preservation gets the better of me and I stay rooted. Looking at his face something changes in it quickly but a quickly as it appears it goes again making me doubt that it was ever there in the first place.

'Taking a walk?' he asks

I do nothing but nod in responce, my tongue half stuck to my mouth. He steps up onto the curb closer to me. I stay complete still.

He dropps my hand making me conscience of the warmth his gave me. But then he takes the bag out of my other hand, holding it. He picks up my now empty hand while saying, 'This way.' He begins to walk on. A part of me, the human, completely old fashioned part of me, tells me to jank my hand from his and insisting on knowing where we are going. My self-preservation side is telling me to run away in the opposite direction and disappear off into the night. But another part, my human feelings and thoughts diluted by another very different basic instinct tells me that I'm safe and that I should stay. And let him take me somewhere.

They continue to battle it out while the only thing I can think of is, 'Don't let him drop my hand.'

**A/N**

**The book smell thing is right – you can look it up.**

**Miss Isabella's religious views are not mine**

**Edward has finally made an appearance, aren't you glad :D**

**Till next time**

**XX**


	4. The Baker

A/N

Disclaimer: Once again if you recognise it, I don't own it.

I know I said Friday - but well there was a party and you know...

Chapter 3

The Baker

'Will anyone be worried?' He asks slowly

I just shake my head. He studies me, concern covering his face. I want that look to disappear off his face, 'Well maybe Bridget.' I can't help but smile as I say it. So I've only met her once, but I've got the feeling that she's the sort to realise that I've been out all night.

'Who's Bridget?'

'My neighbour,' I tell him. A look graces his face as he contemplates this.

He's led me into a park, His hand not leaving mine the entire time. I'm fascinated by him and these bizarre thoughts that are coursing though me, as he leads me to the bandstand in the middle of the park. Without looking at me he sits down on the steps. I just stand there looking down at him, with a tug on my arm, I quickly join him.

I'm not a social vampire-person. Actually I wasn't a social human-person, but at least when I was that there were rules. You didn't go walking at night. There was no touching, let alone holding someone's hand. And there would have been no strange men pulling you off to sit in a band stand at night. I don't know the etiquette now. I know his name, and I meant to ask where he's from. If he was human asking his name would be rude, but is it different now we both aren't? He called it vegetarianism – does that mean there are more like us?

'Have you known Bridget long?' he asks quietly after a moment or two.

Telling him that I haven't, that I only moved in a few days ago, I get to properly study him. So it's dark but he's handsome in a very old-fashioned sort of way.

'Where did you come from?' he asks suddenly, angling his body towards mine

'I've been in Europe for 80 years.' I tell him. He looks more closely at me, trying to find something in my face. 'How old are you Edward?' I have to ask, his name slides of my tongue easily.

His body changes angle slightly when I say his name, and he shuffles closer, '17.' He jokes. I give him a moke-dirty look and he tells me that he's 110.

'What about you? If you were in Europe for 80 years, you must be at least 100.'

'Well that's what ever girl wants to hear, that they are obvious 100.' I say saracastically.

His faces changes straight away, he bubbles and takes my other hand in his, 'no, that's not..I ..'

'Hey.' I stop him, 'I was joking. I'm 183. But more like an 18 year old really.'

He looks at me, 'and your from the south?' he asks it slowly, like it matters more than anything. His grip on my hand tightens just slightly.

'Aye, Texas, why?' I ask, I don't understand why it matters that much to him. He's too young to remember the civil war and that was the last time I've ever known anyone to care about that.

He swallows audibilly, 'where you in...the sourthen wars.' He says it slowly, his eyes darting across my face, in an attempt to see something.

'No, that one by-passed me.' I tell him. It's the truth. Most of the time when a Vamp-person asks me that I'll lie and tell that I was. Most of them tend to stay out of your way then, not that I have ever had much to do with that world.

'Good.' He declares, looking me directly in the eyes.

'Why where you there?' I ask him, after we have been sitting in silence.

'My old home,' he says and for the first time this night his eyes show a proper sadness, 'I grew up round here. I've been craving to come back.'

'You don't live here?' I'm shocked and unbelievably sad, and I don't know why.

'No,' He catches my eye, 'I live in Washington.' He pauses before adding, 'with my family.'

I sit up straighter and stare directly at him because he can't be serious, Vampires don't live together, we're nomadic, 2's or 3's max, 'Are you all?' I don't have to say it

'Yes, all 7 of us.' He has a smirk on his face.

I feel like I'm going to faint or something, 'There are 7 of you?' I need to be sure that he is telling me the truth.

'Yes.' He doesn't say anything else, just lets me absorb the fact.

'You don't...' he trails of, not knowing how the continue

'No, never.' I tell him, still computing the fact that I'm not actually alone, that I'm not some defective vamp-person.

'Never?' He seems both shocked and upset by this. I don't bother replying, he must know I mean it. 'Isabella, I?'

I have to stop him, 'Bella.'

He nods and smiles at me, 'Well Bella you officially have a friend. Come on I'll show you around.' He pulls me up, picking up my shopping once more.

'I don't know.' I tell him, his face falls.

'Okay.' He tells me then turns away from me, still carrying my bags.

Standing up I stare at his back as he walks away, 'hey!' I say but he doesn't turn around. As soon as I realise he is actually leaving, and he still has my stuff and that I don't want him to go. He suddenly reappears next to me. 'What the fuck?' I don't mean to sound some angry.

He just smiles at me, and pulls out from behind his back a bunch of wild carrot. 'What sort of gentleman would I be if I just left you here.'

I look down at the flowers, I can't remember the last time someone actually gave me flowers, and the fact that it's Edward is making my heart do very odd things, 'I don't think you're meant to pick them.' I inform him

'It's a weed I don't think the City of Chicago will mind that much.' He tells me. I'm still staring at the bunch in his hand.

Taking it, I smell them, 'but they are a beneficial weed.' I tell him. He doesn't say anything. He just picks up my other hand and wraps his around it.

I don't want him to show me around. But I don't want him to leave me. We could just sit here on this bandstand but come morning I think we'd get some funny looks.

'You could come back to mine?' I ask hestitantly, taking my lip between my teeth.

His eyebrows go up at this, and he studies my face, 'are you sure?'

No, I'm not. But I know that I don't want him to go and I know that I want to know everything about him. So maybe inviting a strange Vamp-person back to my new home isn't the cleverest idea I've ever had, but I can defend myself easily. But there is just something telling me that it's safe, that he's safe. 'yes.'

He just nods, as he leads me down the steps, 'where?'

'Bridgeport.' Nodding he spins me around to face the opposite direction. I don't say anything as he leads me though the streets.

'You Bella Whitlock, are very hard to read.' He informs while we cross the street.

I just smile, 'I aim to please.' He laughs at that, it's deep and throaty and suits him and I want to him to do it again and again, 'And It's Bella Swan.'

**A/N**

**Wild Carrot is Daucus carota. I looked it up and it's Queen Anne's Lace in the US**

**Well not the most exciting Chapter - but hopefully it'll pick up, well actually it will it's already written**

**XX**


	5. Au Francais

Disclaim: if you recognise it, it isn' mine.

**Chapter 4**

**Au Francais**

'Hello Bella, dear.' Bridget calls, standing in her doorway her hands on her hips.

If I could blush, I'd be beetroot. She has a sly smile on her face. I can feel Edward behind me, still holding my hand.

'Morning Bridget.' I say shyly.

'Morning Lass, aren't you going to introduce me to your gentleman friend?' she smirks

'Umm, This is Edward. Edward, Bridget.' I introduce them as he moves forward to shake her hand.

'Its nice to meet you Edward' she says as she gives him the once over. He shifts slightly under her gaze. It's nice to think that she unnerves him as she does me.

'You too Bridget.'

She stares right at us, as I open the door to let Edward in.

'Ohh and Lass I'll expect all the gossip. She laughs heartily heading into her flat leaving me and Edward standing in the hallway, key in the lock.

'And that's Bridget.' I inform him, matter of factly as I let him into my flat.

Taking my shoes off along with my jacket as I wander in, I ring my hands, wondering what to do. I have a strange man in my home, now I'm a thoroughly modern Bella and all that jazz, but at the risk of sounding old fashioned. Strange men do not get invited into my home. Whatever possessed me to invite him?

I have to do something, otherwise we'll just stand here in my living room indefinatly. Realising that I still have the flowers in my hand, I walk over to the kitchen.

He follows me silently, watching my hands as I wash and cut the flowers to put into a vase.

'You should have food in here.' He tells me as I place some flower food powder into the vase with water.

'I know, I only moved in 2 days ago.' I inform in sarcastically. Thankfully he has the good sense to look sheepish.

Glancing around the room, I decide where to place the flowers.

Quickly I reach the other end of the room, placing the vase on the mantelpiece.

I stare at them for a moment, until I'm hyper aware of him standing directly behind him. All my senses are invaded by his presence. His smell surrounds me, my hairs prick up.

A single step back and we would be touching. I shift slightly, moving just slightly back, so just a part of me is touching him. My arms lay limp next to my body, but they ache to reach up and touch him properly.

I've never felt like this, this deep rooted ache to be close to him, I don't even know him. He could be the vamp-person version of Charles Manson and I couldn't care less. I just want him, to be closer, to invade my senses more, to surround and ungulf me.

His arm, raises up a few inches only to fall back down. I don't make a sound. It rises and falls again, I still do nothing. Finally his arm raises up and his fingers scim my arm, running down my arm, only to run back up, gripping my elbow and twisting me around so I'm facing him.

His eyes bore down into mine, his mouth opens slightly. The hand that grips my arm, relaxes slightly as it moves, to lightly rest on my back.

I want him to say something, but yet I don't. I want us to stay like this forever, I want him never to let me go, to always look at me the way he is.

I reach one of my hands up hesitantly and lightly touch his jaw. Running my fingers over his cheek and onto his chin before letting it fall the rest against his neck.

His stare is unwaving, his eyes slowing changing.

'The things you do to me.' He all but whispers. I go to reply, but the words turn into a low and throaty moan as he lowers his lips to my neck.

I tilt my head, allowing him more room. I've never done this, I don't know why I'm allowing him too but I know that if he stops I'll crack from the loss.

He sucks gently on my neck, moving his mouth up towards my jaw line. He peppers bearly there kisses on me, moving slowly towards my mouth. I ache for him to reach it, to capture my lips in his, the brand me, to claim me.

I want to hit myself for such thoughts, but as he continues, I find I don't care that I want him, in that very basic way. I want him never to leave, to continue to invade and capture my whole being. He pulls his lips away, and I can feel my skin burning at the loss.

He looks me in the eyes asking a question that I know I've already answered the minute I took his hand. I bearly register the nodding of my head before he finally captures my lips in his.

At first he is slow, but his tongue gently touches my lips and before I realise they have opened to allow him in. His lips crash against mine, his tongue probes tracing mine. The hand around my back tightenes, pulling me further into him. I want to drown into him as his other arm snakes around to hold onto my neck. My arms move of their own free will into his hair, relishing the feel of his locks though my fingers as he moans slighty into my mouth, I make a sound making his grip me tighter. We kiss feverously as our tongues battle. But its a loss cause, he's already won, he dominates the kiss. His mouth hot and strong against me, his tongue hard and silky as it darts around and out of my mouth, enticing my tongue into his. His smell that previously surrounded me now saturates and permenates into me. I find myself tugging slightly on his hair moving closer into him. It'll never be enough, I'll never be able to get close enough. The hand that was around my next moves into my hair,moving my head as he dominates the kiss.

I find I neeed to breath though I know I don't and slowly I withdraw my tongue slowing my movements. He copies and the kiss finishes as it began. He looks down at me, his eyes black but dancing.

'umm.' I feel the need to say something, though it will break the spell we are under

He smiles, a big all face smile at me, brushing a stray hair behind my ear.

I've never been kissed like that and my lips tingle with the loss of sensation, the loss of him. I wonder briefly if this is what all those stray vamp-persons talked about, this dull weight in my gut forcing me to be near him. I have no basis to base it on, no experience that even compares remotely to what I'm currently feeling. His arm is still tight around me, securing me in place.

He pulls me with him, as he steps back, settling onto the sofa, his arm is still around me as I stand between his legs. In another situation I would be horrified of my position, he pulls me gently towards him, steping out of the jail he had created with his legs, I sit myself down next to him. I want to throw myself at him, to be absorbed in all that he is. But I'm not that brave, what would happen if I've read him wrong? So I don't move. I just sit upright, my hands folded neatly in my lap.

I'm conscience of his eyes on me, his arm is raised as his finger gently trace my shoulder. I can not help but melt into his finger, forcused purely on the nonsenceical patterns he is drawing. His other arm reaches up and skims my back, before tugging me gently into him. My head lands with a gentle sound onto his chest. He stops his hands movements for a second waiting. I sling myself around, my legs resting on the sofa cushions as I allow my head to futher sink into his chest. He is breathing softly and my cheek feels warm for the first time next to him. He shifts slightly backwards, slouching into the cushions, the arm that was on my back now rests on my side, gently probing. The hand that traced patterns on my shoulder moves up to run it's fingers gently though my hair, touching my scalp with just the right amount of pressure as they do. The combined sensory overload causes my eye's to flicker closed as one of my hands falls gently onto his thigh.

**A/N**

**Well?**

**Reviews are graciously received and cause me to smile and dance around**

**Basically 1000 words on a first kiss, ummm sorry? May have got carried away.**

**Till next time.**

**Xx**


	6. Siarad

**A/N. I have nothing to say really.**

**I know I said Friday but I spent the weekend looking after my nephew and niece, they've gone back home a few hours ago, so I've finally been able to do something other than look after a 2 1/2 year old and a 6 months old. It was fun though.**

**DISCLAIMER: If you recognise it doesn't belong to me**

**Chapter 5**

**Siarad i fi**

'Beep...Beep.' The sound of his phone causes my eyes to open. I couldn't tell you how long we've been sat here. He's comfy and his fingers running though my hair is soothing.

'Sorry.' He whispers as he removes his hand from my hair, I have to stifle a moan from their removal. Once he has read his text, he just gently throws the phone onto the floor. He returns to running his fingers though my hair. Lulling me further into him.

I twist myself round, so I'm lying on my back, staring up at him. The hand that was gently tickling my sides has moved to collapse against them. He just looks down at me, until his other hand desends onto my face. His index finger tracing down, from my forhead down onto my neck.

'Tell me about them.' I ask hesitantly after a while. Part of me doesn't want us to talk, I want us to remain tied in this tiny concoon we've created, but yet I want to know everything. I want to know his deepest darkest secrets. I want to lock them away in some special part of my brain.

'My family?' he questions, gently. I just nod.

He doesn't say anything for a while, but eventually he opens his mouth and tells me.

He tells me about Esme and carlise. About Rosalie and Emmet about Alice and Jasper.

He tells me how they all became a family, about Carlise turning him, about Esme's past, about Rosalie and Emmet together, about how different Alice and Jasper are.

For years everytime I heard the name Jasper I would tighten up, the illogical part of me thinking they could mean him. Except now I remind myself it is not a very unusual name, number 337 to be exact. I suppose it has been so many years, now it's just a name, not him.

As he regails me with stories I study his face. His eyes have turned back to their golden colour and shows the love he obviously has for them.

I feel jealous, having a family has always been a distance memeory, something to cling to when the loneliness just got a bit too much. Something that wasn't possible for the likes of Vamp-people. Except here's proof, actual solid proof that it is.

I have to pull myself up, off his lap. I just sit up, my back facing him stareing out at the window. I can feel and hear him sit up behind me. Part of me wants him to raise his hand and touch me, ask me what's wrong, beg me to tell him.

But then in a way I don't, because there is something that tells me that this, Edward, whatever we are doing could actually be something, that it could matter.

Even if the logical part of me is saying that'll have to tell him eventually, and that it's better to tell him now, then he just knows everything. But then there's that fear, that is all comsumming all gripping fear that if I tell him, he'll say 'okay that's fine, bye.' And then just walk out the door, leaving me to be alone.

'Bella, what's wrong?' he asks quietly, his hand reaching up, gripping my shoulder.

I don't reply, I just stand up and walk over to the window.

After a moment or two of complete silence, I hear the sofa sigh gently as he stands up. His feet gently pad along the floor as he walk over to me. I can feel his body behind me, his hands reach up, both touching my shoulders, pulling me gently into him. I don't look, looking would ruin it. I just lean back into him. One of his arm's snake around my stomach, holding me tightly. His chin rests on the top of my head, keeping me secure. For the first time in years I feel safe, properly safe, secure.

'Bella, what is it, you're scaring me.' His voice his full of emotion and he asks.

My dead, still heart almost jumps, his voice makes me hope. Maybe he is feeling this two, maybe he is...

'It's just...' I trail of, not knowing where to start.

He doesn't say anything, just holds me.

'I don't have a family.' I tell him quietly and slowly, 'I've just been alone.'

His arm tightens around me

'And it was just hearing you talk about yours, seeing how much they mean, just reminded me of that.' I tell him, it's the truth just not all of it.

He turns me around quickly inside his arms. Both his arms, tight around me, pulling me into his chest. My head falls against him.

'don't you ever say something like that again.' He tells me forcefully, 'You are not alone.'

He just hugs me, for a few moments. My lips reced into my mouth, gripped between my teeth.

'That's not all.' I say so quietly, even as a vamp-persons go, he would have shuggled to hear me.

'huh?' he asks obviously confused.

'I use to have a family..as a human.' I say slowly, trying to ease him in

'So did I .' he replies obviously confused.

I end up pulling away slightly, though his arms stay around me. Staring up at him, 'What a mam, a dad, siblings. That sort of family?'

He looks down at me puzzled, 'not the siblings, but yeah, that sort of family.' He says the words carefully

'I was married.' My voice following the pattern of his a moment a go.

He just looks at me, you can almost hear the cogs in his brain working overtime. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again.

'Married?' he asks me slowly.

Biting my lip I nod

'but you're 18.' He says it as a statememt and more to himself than to me

'It was 1846, it's not astonishing.' It ends up coming out more saracastic than I was expecting. But he doesn't seem to notice and if he does he choses to ignore it.

He just looks down at me, 'did you, um, you, love him?' his voice is broken and disjointed, his face coloured with emotion that I can't read.

I think of the stories he had just told me about his family's human-person lives, of Esme and Rosalie and I think I may understand. Maybe it's that, maybe its the fear that I have had the same experiences. You can cope with peoples past relationships surely, but maybe a painful one is harder, maybe you have to be sure of yourself of what you are together, to deal with that

Staring up at him harder, I study his face, open to pain and fear and trepidation but there's that look in his eye that he's had since we met, the look that I dare not try to read, because I know if I get it wrong noting will ever be the same again.

'He was my best friend.' I tell him.

He looks down at me and slowly, very slowly making me hyperaware of it, takes his hands of me letting them fall to his sides.

_**A/N**_

_**Siarad i fi is welsh. It translates to talk to me.**_

_**Again a thank you to all of you who are alerting, favouriting or reading. And especially to all you lovely people who are reviewing :D I like you the best :P**_

_**Reviews make me happy.**_

_**Xx**_


	7. As I was saying

**A/N **

**A thank you to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, favourite or is just plain reading this.**

**There is an explanation at the bottom A/N **

**Disclaimer – You recognise it, it isn't mine.**

**Chapter 6**

**As I was saying**

He is silent for a while. We just stand and do nothing. But then in the midst of this sea of grey-something that seems to be surrounding us, he looks at me. There is something in his eyes that I can't make out, a hint of something, uncertainty?

I open my mouth to speak but I can't form the words.

'You loved him?' he asks, slowly, like the words pain him

It's like my heart has been stopped all over again. I hate that it's me that made him feel like that, that all the blame lies purely on my shoulders.

I debate on whether to tell him the truth or not, to sugar coat or not, to simplify or not.

But I know I should tell him everything, to lay everything bear in front of him. Because I've never felt like this before and if showing him all that I am causes him to walk out, then it does. But I cannot, it would be a lie. And if I've learnt anything it's that after all of this, you should only ever be yourself or there is no point in being anyone.

Instead of answering his, I begin to tell him everything. As I sit on the arm rest of the sofa, as I start he turns away, staring out at the street below.

_I arrived first. I'm always shocked that I'm the first one here though he never has been, he always appears later._

_I lie down, the same spot as always and pull out my book. It's still sunny and the light hits the lake lighting it up like something out of Arthur._

_I hear rustling and footsteps that are characteristically Jasper's, walking towards me. He doesn't make a sound as he takes his spot next to me. I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, he's staring at the sky absorbed. I just stay quiet, reading my book. Eventually he'll tell me, he always does._

_By the time I hear his breathing change I've read 2 chapters and the sun has fallen slightly in the sky._

'_Bella?' my name comes out as a question, whispered_

'_Huh..' I respond gently closing my book_

'_Are you courting anyone?' His question is short and sends my head reeling into confusion._

'_Umm, No, you would know if I was.' I inform him, confusion marring my words_

'_Do you like anyone?'_

'_Many people, but no.' my confusion is growing. I pull myself half up to lean onto one side, staring at him. He doesn't look at me though, his eyes still focused on the darkening sky above us._

'_What'd you think of marriage?' He asks in the same way as the other question. Out of the three of them, this one shocks me most. However I still answer._

'_I don't know. I will, you will. That's what you do.'_

'_But...what do you want out of it?' He asks like it matters a lot._

_I look down at him, puzzled, 'Umm someone I like, children, someone I get along with, a friend.'_

'_Not Love?'_

'_Of course, but I'm the realist of the two of us.' I tell him. We fall into silence. _

'_Jazz, what is this all about?' I finally ask, fed up_

'_Marry me?'_

_I just stared at him, dumbstruck._

'_Say something Bella, please?' _

_I can't though I have to still process this. Because this is big, really big._

'_Well?' his face is nervous._

'_Explain, Now.' I tell him._

_And he does._

'_My parents cornered me this evening, saying I have to get married. They wouldn't listen to my reasons for not. They've already decided, Veronica Wingfield and you know what she's like. And I can't marry her Bells, I just can't. So I ask them if I found someone to marry me myself, could I marry them instead. My pa laughed, said that if I found someone by tomorrow morning then sure I could marry them instead. And I can't marry her Bells, I just can't. So I was thinking, we get married, properly. We'll have an arrangement and everything.'_

_I can't say anything but, 'arrangement?'_

'_Of course, a proper one. We'll get married, have a home and all. If you want children, we'll have children. We'll live together. But that'll be all. If in two weeks you fall in love with someone or in 20 years I do. Then that's fine. We can, but to everyone else we'll be married. But there is one thing, I know what I just said, but if we have children, they have to be mine.'_

_As he finished, he turns his head to look at me. His face blank but his eyes filled, hope, fear, nervousness and something I can't quiet place._

_I can't reply, I just look at him. This is my best friend; I would lay down my life for him, but this? Can I really say 'yes'? Because there is no doubt that we would be happy, but would we ever be happy enough?_

_My silence obviously affects him, 'look, don't say anything now. Tell me in the morning. And if it's a no. Then its fine, we'll just pretend I never asked.' Though he is smiling it doesn't reach his eyes._

_I just flop onto my black and stare at the darkening sky._

'The next morning I told him yes.' Edward still doesn't look at me, but I'm too caught up in the story to stop besides he needs to know. 'There were worst things, my parents would have wanted me to get married soon anyway, and He gave me an option. We were best friends, we loved each other, we would have been happy. I counted myself lucky.'

He doesn't say anything for a moment; he just stands there looking out of the window. I just sit, looking at his back, willing him to turn around, to look at me, to say something.

'What happened?' he speaks carefully and with considered words still looking out onto the street below us.

'We got married, he was posted, then 2 months later I was standing by a graveside wearing black, that night...'

I trail off not believing that I need to say the actual words.

He turns slowly, his body then his head, to look at me. His face is troubled and all I want to do is smooth it out. 'You were turned?'

I nod, slowly, carefully, considerately.

He just looks at me.

We are dodging around each other, scared to say or do anything, both wanting to but equally both not.

'Bella.' The words fall out of his mouth like a cascade of water, heartfelt and light. Before I have time to comprehend what is happening, I'm in his arms, pulled on top of him. My head buried in the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped tightly and securely around me. His head is buried in my hair and he just whispers my name in an almost reverence.

**A/N**

**Right well I know it's been a while and updating once a week has gone out the window. But I'm in upper 6 and my final exams are coming up. I know it's the easter holidays but it's basically 2 weeks of pure revision. My first exam is May 27th and they finish June 24th. And really when I don't want to revise I just want to flop and not read, write or do anything. So there is an apology in advance, sorry. There will be updates but they will just been whenever, not ever week. Thanks**

**Well there we go – hopefully that has cleared up somethings.**

**Reviews make me happy.**

**XxX**


	8. For you For me

**A/N**

**Again a thank you to you lovely cyber people who are reading this **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.**

**I'm back and hopefully be updating quickly as I'VE FINISHED – that's it no more exams, no more school – it's all finished, now just the waiting for August for my results :S**

**Chapter 7**

**For you, for me, for everything we were**

Eventually he stops whispering my name into my hair, and I feel his lips on my neck. They slowly move down. Running down onto my collar bone and then up again. My head moves of its own accord as he reaches my jaw.

He skims over my jaw, my cheeks, and my nose before finally capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

This one is nothing like the first one. The unspoken promises, the newness of the first time has gone. This is filled with feelings altogether different, of need, of want, of safety and of fear.

As we kiss, we cling to each other. Wrapped up in our own little world.

We break apart suddenly, staring at each other, both filled with this strange feeling, not knowing how to put it into words.

As we look at each other, I realise that it's changed. That we have changed, that the equilibrium has shifted.

A lopsided grin appears slowly on his face before he pulls me in close to him. We kiss once more. It is just 'hot'. Our tongues battle for dominance, but he wins as he pushes me back onto the sofa.

The 19th century girl in me is telling me that this is wrong. That I shouldn't be having someone I met a few days ago lying on top of me. That my hands shouldn't be reaching under his shirt. That we shouldn't be on this sofa, with his hands inching closer to my bra. But the vamp-person in me, feels, 'complete' I hate how cheesy that sounds, but it fits. I wonder if this is what the point is, if this is why we are vamp-people.

We continue, the kiss elongates. His hands finally reach where I have been dying to have them. He slides his fingers across my pebbled nipples still encased in my bra. Moaning I arch into him. I smirk into our kiss, when he quietly growls into my mouth as I can feel him next to my thigh.

Eventually we slow down; our tongues retract along with our hands. As he pulls away and looks down at me, we just grin at each other. My lips are tingling with the ghost of the kiss; my skin feels warm.

A breeze of cold air hits my back as he flips us over. He leans back, head against the cushions. Holding myself up, I look at him, properly. I study every inch and crevice of his face.

He smiles gently at me. Smiling back, I lean my head against his chest. It moves gently under me. His arms wrap around me, hugging me tight. I bury myself further into him, trying to be absorbed into him. I feel his eyes on me. His fingers trace the back of my neck making me sigh and sink further. I feel the light skim of his lips against my hair followed by the gentle sound of his head fully hitting a cushion properly.

We lie in a comfortable silence. His fingers never stopping the movement on my neck but he doesn't speak and neither do I.

'We don't know each other.' It's said sadly and suddenly, forcing me to pick my head up to look at him

'What do you mean?' I ask

And for the first time in the hours that I've known him he actually tells me stuff, not just stories of his family but actually things, 'This, we don't know each other, but this feels so alien so different. I'm beginning to see what my brothers have been talking about. That ache if I'm not touching you, that feeling that I know every single part of you, that horror at what will happen if you go away. All of that but yet I still don't know you.'

Shifting my body, I kneel between his legs on the sofa, my hands resting on his knees. Looking down at him I make an attempt to convey to him, 'We have eternity to find out all that stuff.'

'We do?' He asks, looking straight into my eyes

I don't answer his question, 'I lived in Scotland.' I tell him as I settle back down on top of him

'You did?'

'And then Denmark.' Reaching my hands up to run though his hair and perching my chin on his chest.

He looks at me, smiling looking happy that he knows more about me, 'Thank you.' He says it quietly and gently, but I get the sentiment behind it.

We just lay here, absorbed in each other. I'm sinking further into him, becoming more involved with every passing minute.

I've lost track of time, laying here. It doesn't seem important, laying here with him.

'So are you going to keep me then?' His question is said jokingly, but there is a serious question behind it.

'Well if you'll have me.' He doesn't say anything but lifts himself up lightly kisses my forehead, before falling back down.

'Well if that is the case then Miss Bella, then I suppose I ought to ask. Will you be my mate?' He asks, smiling at me

'Here was me thinking we didn't have a choice in the matter.' I respond.

We just look at each other, smiling.

Finally having said those words, it's a weight of my shoulders.

I can't remove the smile of my face, knowing that he feels the same, knowing that it isn't just my heart playing tricks on me.

Armed with that knowledge, we settle into a comfortable silence with each other. The comfort I get from having him close surrounds and envelopes me, knowing that after all these years, I've actually found 'that', the perk of being a vamp-person, the reason that I've spent the last 183 years wandering around aimlessly, buying books and houses.

I finally understand that look you see in the eyes of other vamp-people, I can finally feel like there is an actual point to all this, and I'm lying on it and it's engulfing all of me, covering, surrounding all that I am. For the first time in years I can truly say that I'm happy.

**A/N**

**Happy now?**

**Review, review, review**


	9. Our Saviour

**A/N – Thank you again - sorry I've be away on 2 holidays :D and next week I'm off on another so all this may become...**

**Disclaim: I own nothing you recognise.**

**Chapter 8**

**Our Saviour**

Padding out of the bathroom, with a fluffy towel wrapped tightly around me, I hear Edward talking loudly.

Detouring away from my bedroom and making my way to the living room, I find him pacing around the room, phone stuck to his ear, talking loudly and strained. He gives me a quick smile and rolls his eyes when he catches me listening at the doorway.

I sit down on the sofa's arm and listen in on his conversation

'No, Alice, just no.' He paces around the room, his feet slamming into the floor. His shoulders and neck are held taughtly, the strain of the conversation evident.

'But, Edward, please, I can't see you or us and ...' her voice is feminine and light but the obvious worry she is trying to express to Edward, drips off her words.

'Alice. No, I won't allow you to tell me it's her,' It's like he wants to shout but is restraining himself.

'Edward, please. Don't you see, everything has disappeared, I can't see _anything'_

'Alice,' this time, he sounds slightly defeated, 'please, why can't you just be happy for me?'

'I am Edward, Christ, I'm ecstatic. But I'm worried, it's just...' I hear her sighing, 'I'm trying so hard Edward, but it's all gone. Just blank, nothing. And it's since she came on the scene. I'm not trying to cause trouble Edward. But it's odd, I don't like it.'

'Alice, please I know why you're worried, I do. But isn't her Ally. I don't know why you suddenly aren't having vision. But are you honestly telling me it's not nice to not suddenly be seeing the future?'

On the other end, Alice is silent, but I piece it together. Since this conversation I've been trying to work out what they've been talking about. But thinking about our early conversations and this, it suddenly makes sense. I point to myself, but he doesn't see.

'Yeah, okay parts of it are nice sure, but it's disturbing, it's got us all on edge.'

Standing up I keep pointing to myself. Edward looks at me, puzzled. He's still listening to Alice, but mouths 'What?'

'It's me.' I whisper at him.

Alice is still jabbering in his ear.

'Wait a minute Al.' He tells her, before pulling the phone away from his ear and covering the mouthpiece. 'What, are you talking about?'

'She's right it's me, I'm a shield.' I explain.

He just looks at me, before putting the phone back to his ear, 'I'll phone you back Al.' He doesn't wait for her to say anything before hanging up on her, 'What?'

'I'm a shield, I block things.'

He looks at me, 'Fine,' He doesn't say any, when he speaks next it sounds like he is just thinking out loud, 'That explains it, why I can't hear you.'

'What?' I question, not understanding because of course he can hear me.

'I read minds, just you... I can't hear, nothing, just blank.' He explains.

'Ohh,' that is all I can say. I just look at him.

'But why can't Al see you, that's not mental... she just see's possible versions of the future.' He is explaining it to me, but part of it still sounds like thinking out loud.

'It's not just mental; it... surrounds all of me. Makes me invisible, like I don't exist.'

He looks at me, 'ohh.'

'Yeah.'

We just look at each other; I like this, finding stuff out about each other. It makes this seem more human like – like we could be doing this if we were _actually_ 17.

We stare at each other.

'Well...' Shrugging, I pull the towel tighter around myself, 'I should probably go put some clothes on.' I tell him

He rubs his neck, 'yeah, I phone Alice back, and stop her getting on a plane to come 'rescue' me.'

xXXx

'Tell me something.' He glances at me, as we walk down the street, holding hands, feeling very teenager-ish.

I make a noise to show him that I heard him.

He takes a breath before the words tumble out of his mouth, 'What do you think of sex?'

I halt in my step, and just look at him. Thankfully he has the good sense to look embarrassed and sheepish.

'You're such a bloke.' I inform him, starting to walk again.

We are silent for a while as he steers me though the streets of Chicago.

'Well yeah, a 110 year old virgin – bloke.' He tells me, obviously going for 'the sound like you find it funny when actually you think it is really serious and it really embarrasses you to tell someone.'

I glance at him, 'Shit.'

'Yeah.' He half laughs.

We walk past a building – one of the few in this city that I recognise. 'He'd have a few things to say about it.' I tell him, stopping by the gates.

He looks at the building, then to me and back again, 'You don't believe in all that do you?' he asks puzzled

'Not really, he doesn't exist but I still go. Six times a year. Have for 100 years.' I tell him

He looks at the building.

'You don't...' I trail off.

'No,' he answers not looking at me, 'That's Carlisle's department.'

I study him, looking at him, studying the slightly sandy stone, 'You must have use to though– maybe not a papal one.' I ask

'Long time ago I did, no... It's not a place for us.' He says it sadly, as if in part that he wishes it was.

'Lucifer doesn't consume me in flames every time I cross the threshold and try to drag me down to the pits of hell.' I tell him. Imploring him to understand, to see what I'm trying to say to him

He shifts his eyes to me, 'but then why, go? If you don't believe in a god.' He asks

I shrug, 'I just do, maybe it allows me to be...human. It gives me a connection to something, something more than us, than this. Lets me connect to what I was... all those years ago.'

He just looks at me, the look of amazement grazing his eyes.

'You don't see that do you?'

'Of course not, we are creatures not people.'

Placing my hands on his face, forcing him the look at me, 'just because we aren't _Homo sapiens_ doesn't mean we aren't people.' I tell him. My eyes, studying his features, worried and full of feeling that shouldn't be there, that I wish I could just remove, 'you don't see yourself clearly.'

'We are damned.' He tells me disattached and straightforwardly

'Speak for yourself.'

He looks at me, shocked.

'Our existence is just as spectacular as anything else, and whether we got here because of big bearded man or a spot of dust that began everything. Doesn't stop us being extraordinary. Our existence means that we aren't 'damned' because we exist.'

He looks at me, with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

'Well maybe you can save me.' Again it comes out like a joke, but with an honest statement behind it.

'you don't need saving, there's nothing to be saved from.' I tell him, allowing my hands to slip down to grip his hand again, 'And I'll spend the rest of eternity convincing you of that.'

He leans down to kiss me gently, before tugging me with him, again walking down the street.

**A/N**

**Review, dear people, review**


	10. Love

**A/N – Thank you again**

**Disclaim: I own nothing you recognise.**

**Chapter 9**

**Love**

I once spent a whole 9 months standing still. It was during my hermit years. I stood up to get some paper but I didn't walk, I didn't go and fetch the pen and paper. I just didn't move.

My vigil, if that is what it was, only ended when there was a fire in the forest that surrounded my house.

Not moving when you don't have to is odd. There is no need to breath, no need speak or swallow. No need to think.

I just stood there.

A stone.

'Now, you, promised me that you'd come in for a cuppa.' Bridget voice comes down the stairs. She's standing in her doorway, hand on hips, looking at us as we ascend the stairs, turning onto the landing.

'Yes I did, Bridget.' I smile at her.

'Well then come on did dears, I'll put the kettle on.' She tells us before disappearing into her flat.

Edward smirks and shrugs in my direction, before following me into her home, closing the door behind us.

Her flat is almost identical to mine, except none of the wall have been knocked down, making it look smaller.

I offer to help but get shooed into the living room with Edward. He rolls his eyes at me as I walk around the room, looking at the photos.

'That's rude.' He whispers and vampire speed.

'Oh, shoo, there just photos.' I tell him, picking up what looks like a wedding photo.

'That's me and my Jimmy.' Bridget says coming in, holding a tray.

Nodding I place down the frame and sit down on the sofa next to Edward.

'Now then where did you to meet?' She asks, sitting back in her chair, obviously waiting for the tea to brew.

Edward looks at me, then back at Bridget, 'In the park' he tells her

She looks at us both, 'ohh, well there are worse ways. Now Edward, I know about Bella here. What about you? are you a Chicago man?'

'I am actually, but I live in Washington now – just outside Seattle.'

'ohh, visiting family are you?'

I can tell that he takes a break before answering, but Bridget doesn't 'No, they've all moved away, just seeing some friends.'

'Well what will you two being doing when you go back home then, Edward?' Bridget asks softly

He answers Bridget but looks at me, 'Well I was hopping to convince her to come back with me.'

Bridget doesn't say anything, but looks at me with her eyebrows raised, as she leans forward and pours the tea.

'Well that was a umm interesting tea.' Edward declares flopping onto the sofa, head first.

'I like her though, reminds me of my nan.'

Lifting his head he stares at me, 'trust me my nan was nothing like that.'

I sit down next to him, pushing his side, to make him move over.

We are silent for a moment, in the still room, until I sum up enough corourage, 'Did you mean it?'

He doesn't say anything, but just looks dead at me.

'About moving to Forks?'

He studies my face before saying the words carefully and considered, 'yes, I was.'

'Oh.'

Standing up I pace over to the window. I seem to have spent more time looking out this window since I've met Edward than I've ever spent looking out windows before.

'You don't want to?' His words are staggered and slow and pained.

'It's not that.' I pause, and breath and consider, before turning my head to him, leaning against the sill, 'It's just that I don't want to turn up with suitcase in hand telling your family that I'm moving whether they like it or not.'

'Isabella.' He stresses, 'My family, every single one of them will welcome you, no matter what.' He implores me to understand.

'Edward, I know that and I know that they're your family but...I don't know... maybe its politeness or out of a sense of propriety or maybe it's just because I'd feel awkward, just moving.' I have to shift my eyes down, not being able to look at him.

He is silent for a moment, 'hey babe.' He's standing in front of me, one hand on my arm the other under my chin, forcing me to look at him, 'okay.'

'What?'

'Then we won't.' He tells me, 'If you feel odd about it, then we won't. How about we go visit, because they are all dying to meet you. Then we can decide what to do.'

'Really?'

He smiles, slightly at me, 'Yes.' He leans in a gently pecks my nose.

'Okay, thank you.'

He looks at me, before shaking his head and retreating back to the sofa, 'I'm going to phone Carlisle.'

Nodding, I chuck his phone at him, before fetching my i-pad to play a wonderful game of angry birds.

After about an hour I see him hanging up and flinging his phone onto the cushion next to him

Pausing the game and pulling out my ear phones, I look at him, 'Everything all right?'

'They are getting antsy. Carlisle asked once but all I could hear was Esme in the background telling me to come home and that they want to meet you. Plus she wants to know what to do with my room.'

'Well maybe we should plan to go?' I tell him

He looks at me, 'really?'

'Yeah, why not a week tomorrow? We'll stay for a few days and then...' I trail off

'Great.' A big smile appears on his face as he stands up, 'thank you.' He says quieter.

I just smile in responce.

As he walks towards the bedroom, I go to put in my ear phones and continue killing pigs but before I plug myself in again I say smirking, 'You mentioned sex?'

**A/N**

**And the countdown begins ...**

**Hope you enjoyed and people remember REVIEW, it's just a click away**

**xx  
**


End file.
